


MerlinWATGame: Team 1

by arthur_pendragon, Jecari, Kimmy, loveyProphet, MerlinWATMod (ViridianJane), procoffeinating



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Fic, Imprisonment, M/M, MerlinWATGame, Pining, Unrequited Love, blind!Morgana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 17:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jecari/pseuds/Jecari, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/pseuds/loveyProphet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/MerlinWATMod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/procoffeinating/pseuds/procoffeinating
Summary: Team 1 of the MerlinWATGame is finished! Lancelot pines, Merlin dreams, Morgana finally achieves her goal.





	1. Illumine: arthur_pendragon

**Author's Note:**

> Team 1 of the Merlin Writers' & Artists' Telephone game is done! Congratulations and thank you to all of the team members! Please leave comments on the last chapter, so that all participants know that's where to look :)
> 
> If you aren't familiar with what the fest is, you can check out our [tumblr](https://merlin-wat-game.tumblr.com/) or our [LJ](https://merlin-wat-game.livejournal.com/) page to find out more! 
> 
> When reading, each piece (with the exception of the first) was inspired by the one before it, and _only_ the one before it. Which means that by then end, you might end up with a completely different story! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun modding this fest, and I hope you all enjoy the wonderful result the participants put so much work into creating!

Lancelot can’t sleep. He tosses and turns, but his eyes refuse to close and his mind refuses to quieten. The room so readily loaned to him by Merlin is pitch-black, with only slivers of moonlight filtering through the window. It should have been a peaceful night; these are much better lodgings than Lancelot’s had for months, but still he can’t give in to his exhaustion. 

He gets out of bed as softly as he can and walks over to the window, looking out. The view of Camelot that the window affords him is glorious, though not many homes have lit hearths at this time of night. Pangs of envy trouble his chest as he thinks about what he must do the following morning. How lucky Merlin is, that he lives here. How can Lancelot leave this one true dream of his life behind?

 “What’s wrong?” comes a sleep-hoarse voice from the floor. Merlin sits up and peers at him, pale in the starlight. Lancelot’s breath catches in his throat. Merlin looks ethereal, otherworldly; his loose nightshirt, fallen wide open at the collar, bares skin that almost glows.

“Just thinking,” Lance says helplessly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s all right,” Merlin answers, pushing messy locks of dark hair up his forehead. “I wasn’t having the best of dreams anyway. Do you need water?”

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble, my friend.” Merlin pushes himself up and quietly exits the room, leaving a spellbound Lancelot in his wake.

Lancelot swallows. Guinevere’s lovely smile flashes through his mind, erased by the creak of the door reopening to admit Merlin holding a cup and pitcher.

“Here.”

“Thank you, Merlin.”

Lancelot drinks his fill before he returns to the bed Merlin gave up for him.

“What were you dreaming about?” he whispers after a while, hoping Merlin hasn’t fallen back asleep yet.

“Arthur,” Merlin says with a sigh.

“Thought you said it wasn’t a good dream.”

Merlin snickers, in turn making Lancelot smile. “Not this one.”

Lance waits, staring at the ceiling, the scent of Gaius’s herbs pungent in his nostrils.

“I dreamt that the griffin killed him,” Merlin says eventually. “That he died in my arms and I couldn’t save him.”

Words of consolation jump to Lancelot’s tongue and die on his lips. Merlin doesn’t notice as he continues.

“He’s… I’ve only known him for a few short months but he’s my life, you know?”

Lance shivers under the weight of those words. “He should know of your devotion,” he says, aching.

“More than anything, I want to tell him. A million times I’ve had the words in my mouth. You’ve seen for yourself what kind of man he is, you know how brilliant and brave he can be! Imagine what he could achieve if I could use my magic to help him.”

“You already do help him,” Lance says, aware of the lengths Merlin has gone to for Arthur, aware that that’s not why Merlin wants to tell Arthur at all.

“Openly,” sighs Merlin. “Gaius knows about me, too, but he just repeatedly cautions me against using it. But you, Lance, when you caught me at it, the way you just _accepted_ it, accepted me—”

Lance inhales sharply, wondering at the wistful tone of Merlin’s voice.

“It was as if I could _breathe_ again,” Merlin whispers. “I want that with Arthur… so badly.”

“Arthur isn’t his father. You could try.”

“I saw a magic user beheaded my first day in Camelot.” Merlin says, quiet, sour. “A sorcerer tried to kill Arthur in a tournament, another poisoned Camelot’s water. I don’t think I could try at all.”

Lancelot rolls onto his side to better gaze over the edge of the bed at Merlin. Merlin catches his eye and flushes. His lips are full, pretty. They shine pale pink in the moonlight. Lancelot blinks hard and catches himself _mourning_.

“You cherish Arthur,” he tries again.

“He’s my entire world,” Merlin says, voice breaking as if he doesn’t know how to say anything else. His eyes glimmer gold and Lancelot gasps as an image of Arthur appears before them, proud in his battle armour and Pendragon-red cloak. Merlin’s adoration is blatant in every pinprick of light that makes up Arthur’s hair and face and eyes.

“He’s a complete arse to me but I love him. What if he’d died?”

Lancelot turns from the echo of Arthur to see Merlin biting his lip and quivering.

“You wouldn’t have let him.”

“He saved me. He defied the king and risked everything to bring me back from the brink of death. I’m meant to protect _him_. And still, he…”

What can Lancelot say to that? He watches mutely as the image of Arthur fades to be replaced by the night sky, showers of stars cascading down to the edge of the bed and kissing Lance’s skin—each a wish that won’t be fulfilled.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” he asks despite himself.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just curious,” Lance says, shrugging even though Merlin can’t see.

“Couple of boys back in Ealdor. Gwen.”

“Guinevere!”

Merlin laughs, a carefree sound that Lance secrets away in his heart. “Yeah, but it was only a spur-of-the-moment thing. Don’t worry, she’s all yours to treasure.”

Lancelot isn’t worried at all.

“Do wish I could kiss Arthur sometimes,” Merlin says, trailing off with a yawn. Would he have admitted this if exhaustion hadn’t dulled his senses? “But he’d probably banish me or something.”

“It’s not very hard to imagine you’re as important to him as he is to you,” Lance says, choking on each word. _You’re important to me, too. You’ve done things for me no one else ever would. You gave me a chance at fulfilling the purpose of my life. I owe you so, so much._

“Right, when every other word out of his mouth is him calling me an idiot.”

Lancelot doesn’t reply.

“The sun,” Merlin mutters sleepily. “Light of my life.” His magic conjures up another image of Arthur gleaming brightly, this time easy and relaxed without his armour. Lancelot gazes at Merlin until he’s sure Merlin’s lost in his dreams again. He reaches out with trembling fingertips to brush gently through Merlin’s feathery hair. The illusion of Arthur bores holes into Lancelot with its gaze as he indulges himself in this searing, insignificant desire; it doesn’t disappear or take its eyes off him until the first rays of dawn pierce it through.

***

“You don’t look like you got any rest,” is the first thing Lancelot hears when he opens his eyes. Merlin, kneeling beside the bed, makes a silly face at him. “How’re you going to ride for hours like this?”

“I’ve faced much worse than a day without sleep, Merlin,” Lance mumbles, turning onto his side and cupping Merlin’s jaw. Merlin leans into it with a friendly, trusting smile.

“If you ever tire of Arthur,” Lance begins. The door bangs open.

“Late again, _Mer_ lin,” calls Arthur Pendragon, and stops short as he takes in the sight of the two of them so intimate in their nightclothes. Lancelot isn’t imagining the shock on Arthur’s face, nor the angry jealousy that replaces it. If only Merlin had whipped his head around in time to see.

“Sorry, sire,” Merlin says sheepishly, rising and going to the small basin of water. “I’ll be just a second.” Lancelot hurries to his feet and bows to his prince.

“Lancelot,” Arthur says stiffly. “I didn’t know you were residing here.”

“Merlin generously lent me his bed.”

“You’re leaving today.” No, Lancelot isn’t imagining the relief either. He nods.

“Well, it was an honour to have fought with you,” Arthur says, extending an arm to him. Lancelot gratefully clasps it. Neither of them looks towards Merlin who is hastily exchanging his nightshirt for trousers and a clean tunic. “I do wish things had been different. Perhaps when I am king, they will be… Come _on_ , Merlin, you lazy clod, don’t think your face can get any cleaner than that.”

“Yes, all right!” Merlin pats his face dry with a corner of his shirt and rushes over to Arthur’s side. “D’you have all you need?” he asks Lance.

“Indeed,” says Lance. “Thank you, my friend.”

Merlin blushes. Arthur’s eyes narrow, and he gives a jerk of a nod in Lancelot’s direction before winding an arm (possessively, Lancelot thinks) around Merlin’s shoulders and dragging him off for the day’s adventures. Lancelot changes his clothes, packs all his belongings, and leaves Merlin’s room after a long moment.

“Don’t go just yet,” says Gaius, stopping him with a bowl of porridge before he darts out of the infirmary. As Lancelot digs into his meal, Gaius places an avuncular hand on his back. “I’m sorry about everything, my boy. You’re more noble than half of Camelot’s knights combined.”

Lancelot smiles up at Gaius. “I hope to be back someday,” he says, and means it.

As he mounts the horse gifted to him by Arthur in the courtyard, he glances up at the castle one last time—he can’t deny the longing of his heart—and spots the unmistakable figure of Guinevere gazing down at him from one of the windows, her elbows resting on the sill.

He raises a hand in farewell, promising to remember the sweetness of the sunlight striking her face. He tries not to think about Merlin.

Months later, a brute called Hengist gives him a leering once-over and sets him to work.

 

_Finis_


	2. Art: LoveyProphet




	3. Fic: Kimmy

“It’s alright, Merlin. I don’t mind. I could never hate you.”

A kick to the ribs woke Merlin up from sweet dreams of Arthur. Arthur… Arthur was safe. Arthur was comfortable in his… (their…? Merlin’s memory was strangely fuzzy) bed, in Camelot, while Merlin had to put up with saving the world _again_.

“Rise and shine, my dear friend. Am I right? Isn’t that how you always loved to wake Arthur up?”

Morgana. Of course he had to go and get kidnapped by Morgana. Morgana, who obviously didn’t connect the magic with him, thank the goddess, considering he wasn’t even handcuffed.

“Nice to see you too, ‘Gana.”

He mumbled, disgruntled, opening one eye and glaring at her for interrupting his dreams, bringing him back to the harsh reality of a cold and hard dungeon floor. He should be in Camelot now, getting to talk to Arthur, getting to _cuddle with Arthur_ , not having to deal with his moody big sister again.

“Wish I could say the same.”

Her voice sent shiver through his spine and the felt magic force him to get up, pinning him against the wall. What a rude host she was.

“Shame, I was getting comfortable.”

“You never learned your manners, did you?”

Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, earning himself an icy glare and a painful meeting with the floor as the magic let go of him.

“Now, Merlin. I just want to talk. Like old friends. We used to be so close once, didn’t we?”

Merlin closed his eyes, trying not to think about it too much. They used to be close. They used to be friends. He loved her like a sister, like Gwen, like… Arthur, but he loved Arthur differently than all of them. But they were never close enough, were they?

He was never able to be what she needed. He was a coward. He never gave her the support of his magic, he never showed her she could be beautiful, he was the one at fault for what she had become. Her evil deeds stained _his_ hands with blood.

“So close, and yet not quite…” He let out a soft sigh, looking at her with bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh dear, what are you sorry for? Poisoning me? Leading me to death? Or maybe leaving me alone, leaving me for magic to consume instead offering help when I came to you?”

It stung, more than a slap would.

“I’m sorry.”

He repeated like an echo.

“I’m sorry but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry but I cannot change it _now._ What do you want?”

“I want Camelot.”

“Same old, same old.” Maybe provoking her wasn’t a good idea but it was just so _boring_. “Don’t you ever get tired of that? So you’ll become the Queen, and then what? Uther is no more, and Arthur is a good ruler. What has he really done to you?”

Morgana’s eyes shined with fiery flames but Merlin couldn’t care less.

“And what has he done _for_ you? Arthur is your brother, not just in blood! He kept fighting for you even when I abandoned you. When I lost faith, when I…” His voice wavered. “When I betrayed you, when I _failed_ , he stood by your side! And that’s how you will repay him?”

“He just keeps killing my kind!”

“Does he?”

They were both shouting by now but silence fell at Merlin words. Morgana looked at him defiantly as he deflated.

“You want to be the queen, Morgana, and yet do you ever check how Camelot is doing? Or when was the last time someone with magic had been executed?”

-


	4. Art: Julia (Procoffeinating)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check out Julia's tumblr [here](http://procoffeinating.tumblr.com/)!


	5. Fic: Jecari

Being a queen was supposed to be easy. 

Morgana thought that she would need to host parties with prestigious guests, sit on the throne and sign papers here and there but she was just inexperienced and naive. The only reason why she wanted the throne so bad was so she could get revenge on the Pendragons and legalize magic so no one would have to feel the way she felt or hide the way she had to. Abolishing Uther's law had been the first thing she'd done so she has what she wanted... And enemies, whiny and stupid subjects, strategies to elaborate, war, and so many more annoying duties that she has barely been sleeping since she became the queen of Camelot.

However, she has lost so much to get here (family, friends, even her sight) that she won't let her doubts take their toll on her. She's strong and she definitely won't show weakness when traitors, knights and people still faithful to Arthur, are watching her every move. She may still be naive at times but she's not stupid. So she grabs the throne's armrests to hide her shaking and forces a smile as she hears people screaming and swords clashing

"My queen..." A guard says, panting.

"It's him, isn't it?"

"Yes, he-"

"Let him come to me," Morgana orders.

She knew this would happen, that Arthur would come back to take back his throne and his realm, ever since he escaped, years ago, so she's not surprised by this attack. She's worried, maybe a little scared too, though. Yet, she wants to face him herself. A few minutes later, Morgana hears Arthur shouting orders after the door exploded. Merlin's... (Or Emrys'? Morgana isn't sure about how she should call him now but she does remember his magic, powerful but weakened by morality.) doing for sure.

After what feel like hours of grunts, clashes of sword, and magic explosions, the silence filling the room is deafening. The battle is over. Without her sight, Morgana has no idea who is alive, hurt or dead, so she is not sure if she should proudly stand up or admit defeat and runaway. She decides to not make a move, sitting still on the throne, and between whines and heavy breaths, she hears footsteps approaching.

"Who are you?" She asks, her tone stone cold.

"It's over, Morgana."

She recognizes Merlin's voice.

"Ah, Merlin... Or should I call you Emrys? I'm quite lost, old friend," she confesses, one of her eyebrows raised up.

"We are not friends," Merlin angrily replies before whispering in a language Morgana knows all too well, his voice getting louder and louder.

"Wait! I-"

"Merlin, don't!"

This time Morgana recognizes Arthur's voice, deep and strong, and she's glad to be interrupted because she doesn't know what she was about to say. Unsurprisingly, Merlin obeys to Arthur and stop casting his spell.

"Don't forget she's a witch, be careful," she hears Merlin warn him in a soft tone.

"She's my sister and I want to hear what she has to say," Arthur replies in the same tone before speaking louder: "Speak."

Morgana frowns but she doesn't have to think long about what to say. "What do you want me to say, Arthur? That's I'm sorry? You want me to apologize? I won't."

"This is useless," Merlin sighs before chanting another spell.

This time, Morgana decides to stand up. She's not going to celebrate or run away, though, she's facing her death. Deep down, she always knew that Merlin would be the one causing her death, one way or another. As she walks closer to the warlock, words fall out of her mouth, leaving a bitter aftertaste.

"It could have been you, Merlin. If you think about it, we are not that different," she points out, making Merlin stop the spell again to listen to her. "You got support, you've never been alone in this, that's the only difference between you and me. I've been alone ever since the first day I found out about my magic and what did you do when I came to you for help?" She asks, walking closer to Merlin. "You told me to seek help somewhere else, to go to the druids. You didn't care, you acted like it wasn't your problem. And right, as a person maybe it wasn't but as a warlock? It was. I just wanted help, I wanted to understand, but more than anything, I wanted to stop feeling so alone. But warlocks were scared and hiding because of Uther. I truly thought you would do better than him, Arthur," she continues, turning toward her half-brother and she instantly feels his sword against her abdomen, "so I waited and waited and waited but you never did anything about it. Eventually, I understood that I had to take matters into my own hands, and I did."

"You did," Arthur agrees, "but was it really worth it, Morgana?"

Morgana stays silent for a few seconds, her own words echoing in her head as she realizes how true they are. Suddenly, she feels drained, resigned. Wars, deaths, betrayals... She's never wanted it and it's so damn tiring, haunting, she wants it to stop. And there is only one way for that to happen: giving up. Because a part of her wants to believe it was worth it but it really wasn't.

"Yes," she lies, grabbing the sword's blade with both hands and she ignores the pain and blood running down her palms and wrists, "because I didn't do it for myself. Magic is legal and warlocks aren't afraid anymore," she continues, honest this time.

Holding the sword still as she walks closer, she gasps when the blade cuts through her belly.

"That's all I have ever wanted," she finishes, a single tear running down her cheek.

As she takes another step forward, the sword pierces her body and when she takes it out, she hears the sword falling to the ground. Her legs give up and soon, her breathing fastens and her heartbeat slows down, air is having trouble filling her lungs, blood is escaping through her wound, barely reaching her heart. It hurts but she's okay, she is ready.

"P-promise... promise me you'll keep it that way," she asks Arthur as he kneels next to her, taking a deep breath between each word, "promise me warlocks will be safe, that you will protect them."

"I promise."


	6. Team 1

And that's it for team 1! What a wonderful job everyone did, and of course make sure to check out everyone's ao3 & tumblr & LJ! 

Again, huge thanks to [arthur_pendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon), [loveyProphet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/pseuds/loveyProphet), [Kimmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy), [Julia](http://procoffeinating.tumblr.com/) & [Jecari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jecari/pseuds/Jecari)!

 

More teams will be coming soon, so keep an eye out for them! 

If anyone is interested in participating in another round of this fest, please let me know, either in the comments or on tumblr or LJ! Then I'll get a feel of whether or not I'll run it again sooner rather than later. 

 


End file.
